"Don't ask me why - if you don't want to understand
I keep on driving through this land
And by the moonlight I will travel if I can
#5 - "Very Long Ride"
It's a Very Long Ride
I travel light cos I am the lone rider
I travel light cos I am the outsider
I travel light cos I'm a very good fighter
I travel light all through the day - and through the night"
- Adam Ant
A menacing voice rang out over the Staten Island complex. On each personal com-link and every speaker set throughout the facility the same voice could be heard. "Attention," the voice boomed. Video monitors flared to life and a huge holographic image appeared in mid-air above the complex. "The cowardly buffoon you call your leader is dead." A black-masked man holding a bloody sword hoisted the severed head of their former leader, the man once previously known as Resonator. "Vengeance is mine!"
The intruder paused a moment for effect. Everywhere throughout the complex, people froze in amazement and fear. One man had infiltrated their vaunted defenses, destroyed or run off all their forces and weapons and slaughtered their leader. Even now agents, soldiers and workers evacuated the facility as quickly as they were able.
The masked marauder continued on in an icy cold voice. "This facility will be completely destroyed in 30 minutes. Self-destruct has already begun." A moment later, in frightening proof of the man's words, a terrible explosion ripped through one of the weapons storage units near the command bunker. The evacuation increased in its earnestness.
As time passed, the explosions became more and more regular. Muskateer had been true to his word Sandra Anderson mused. He appeared to be unwilling to leave anything left standing of this place. She had commandeered an electric cart in an effort to locate the former Avenger, who now lived up to that name to the fullest. The complex was nearly deserted by now. "Like rats on a sinking ship," Sandra said to herself as she witnessed the fleeing masses. Now the immediate area was eerily quiet, except for the roars of fires and the occasional additional explosion.
When they had started, Sandra had flinched each time the explosions rang out. Now she was starting to get more used to them. There once was a time, as Ladybug, when such things wouldn't have even caused her to bat an eye. That seemed like a lifetime ago. Just then, a dark form overhead caught her eye. It was a man on a flying cycle. Sandra gunned the cart's accelerator and raced off in the direction that he was heading.
Molly wandered the halls of Muskateer's base. She felt terribly useless. Muskateer could be so difficult sometimes. Didn't he realize that she could be a help to him? She had to do something. Besides he didn't have to be so alone now. Molly could feel his pain, even if he refused to feel it himself. "I owe him my life," Molly said to herself quietly. "There has to be something I can do for him in return." A moment later, she came to the room Muskateer had set up as a shrine. Since he had shone it to her, Molly often felt drawn to this place. Fortunately, Muskateer had given her access as well. Many locations of the base were still off limits to her.
Stepping inside, a chill ran down Molly's back and she noticed the skin on her arms had formed goose bumps. It wasn't the coldness of the room that caused the result however, even though Muskateer kept the room much colder than the rest of the base. She was even getting used to the frozen feel of the tile. By now, it was all almost part of the ambiance of the room. No, Molly felt a sense of connection to this special place. It caused welled up feelings of many varied forms to fill her each time she set foot in here.
"I wish I could have been a hero," Molly muttered dejectedly. The room held connections back to a much happier time, a much more innocent time. Molly had idealized many of the heroes whose personal effects filled this makeshift shrine. She stepped before the old costume of Firestar and paused, as she usually did. Her idol had possibly worn that very same costume on the day she rescued Molly. Tears welled up in the young girl's eyes as she thought about what could have been and about what happened to everyone. This wasn't just a shrine, but also a memorial to fallen friends and comrades.
It was a long time before Molly was able to compose herself. Wiping away the tears, Molly looked up again at the costume of Firestar. "I have to do something." But somehow, just what eluded her. Muskateer had made it painfully difficult to go against his wishes. After a moment's thought, she turned and headed back toward the command center. "Firestar would have done something."
As Sandra Anderson raced off in the direction that she had seen the last Avenger travelling, her mind raced over the possibilities. It sounded crazy, but she had nowhere else to turn. Sandra didn't like the idea of putting her fate in the hands of a hardened killer like Muskateer, but there were no better options. "Face it, Sandy," she said as she sped along, "your survival skills are minimal. I could probably get a job working for someone else, but I doubt I'd live long enough to get an offer." She sighed briefly as she turned the corner and headed for the vehicle compound. It was likely there that Muskateer could be found. If he hadn't already departed.
Closing in, suddenly Sandra's world came awash in a bright flash of red and orange. Nearby, the building she was passing became suddenly engulfed in a fiery eruption. The blast threw her cart through the air and flung her roughly to the ground. Landing hard on the asphalt knocked the breath from her. As she lay dazed and disoriented, fire roared all around her.
Panic filled her mind as Sandra struggled to escape the blaze, but she found herself trapped. Pain ripped through her leg and she struggled vainly to free it. The cart had landed across her pinning her in place. She thrashed about, trying to get free in vain. She could hear someone screaming and it took her a moment to realize that it was herself. Her heart sunk in her chest as realization crept in that she was going to die here. Now she wished Muskateer had just killed her. It would have been much less painful, she thought morosely.
As hope faded in Sandra's mind, her attention was drawn to an approaching vehicle. The rumbling of the large tractor-trailer rig headed straight for her. For a moment, Sandra thought maybe this would be her rescue, but the truck never seemed to stop coming. The piercing lights blinded Sandra and she screamed again, much louder than before. It was going to ram the wreckage filling the road!
Sandra bit her lip and closed her eyes, waiting for the impact. The sound of squealing tires suddenly filled the air and Sandra opened her eyes hopefully to see the front bumper of the rig mere inches from the damaged and burning wreckage trapping her beneath. Somehow her silent prayers were suddenly answered in a thankful turn of events. Astonished, Sandra watched as the cart rose into the air off her pinned and injured body. As she squinted in the face of the flames, she made out a silhouette holding the damaged vehicle aloft. The dark figure tossed the cart away like a child's toy.
"I was hoping to find you before you left," Sandra finally stated.
"You got a funny way to catch someone's attention, 'Bug," Muskateer grumbled back. "Now tell me why I'm taking time away from my own business." Sandra smiled weakly. She had been hoping for this very chance.
Molly came to the door to Muskateer's command center and pushed the access button. The door remained closed. She pushed again. Nearby, a console displayed the dreaded words - ACCESS DENIED. Molly had expected this, but she still had hoped for more.
Muskateer had been very clear that she wasn't to follow him on his mission against Resonator. Molly wasn't even about to question that. She certainly didn't want to find out what would happen if she went against his wishes. But she could be of help with this cryptic message. Maybe that could be the thing that would allow her to prove her worth to the Avenger.
"If only I could do SOMEthing. Show him how valuable I can be," she said to herself, trying to build up her courage. "I can't just sit around this place forever."
Glumly she peered through the view panel on the locked door. The computer had continued to work on deciphering the message that had arrived just as Muskateer left on his mission. Molly looked on curiously as the words continued to form. "Hmmm... maybe there's something about this I can help out with." Molly's eyes grew wide as she read the words that had been completed.
Some time later, Muskateer was once more behind the wheel of the large tractor-trailer. Although it was much more than a mere tractor-trailer. The rig was heavily armed, as any long distance travel by necessity would take you out of civilized areas. The Free Zones were too dangerous for regular trips. The Last Avenger had even added a few surprises to the weapons on the large vehicle, although the previous configuration was quite substantial. The vehicle had enough weaponry to go to war.
Muskateer was now motoring steadily towards the Brooklyn border checkpoint. Despite all the delays and changes of plan, the entire operation was completed well within expected parameters. However, one of those unexpected changes of plan was sitting in the passenger seat next to him.
"You won't regret this," Sandra Anderson stated hopefully. She sat with her heavily wrapped leg propped up on the dashboard. Her fateful crash while pursuing Muskateer had resulted in a severely wrenched knee and a broken ankle. It had taken a great deal of talking and convincing to get Muskateer to take her along after rescuing her from the overturned cart. Seeing that Muskateer was seemingly immune to her feminine charms, all Sandra could use to win him over was her scientific expertise in exchange for her life and safety.
"Who says I don't already regret it, 'Bug," Muskateer growled in response. He wondered if she was ever going to come up for air. How unfortunate for him to be stuck with one of those people who talked up a storm when nervous. "I wasn't planning on accepting damaged goods."
"I can still utilize my skills with a bum foot," Sandra countered. "Besides, maybe I can get the pieces of armor we scavenged put together and working by the time I'm back on my feet." She looked expectantly at the driver. He simply looked over and then turned forward again without saying a word. She could feel the coldness in his eyes down into the depths of her soul. "At least I'll be able to pull more of my own weight by then."
Sandra turned away and tried to reset herself in her seat. She wasn't sure which was more uncomfortable, her position or the deadly silence.
"So, you do have the necessary facilities for me to work in, don't you? I mean, I'm not sure how these parts are all going to fit together,... or even if their systems are compatible. Won't know until I get down to it. Even if they aren't, I'm sure I can jury-rig something, though. I've become something of an expert at this sort of thing, you know. After all I've had years and years of experience when it comes to power armor applications. 'Cause I'd hate to have to go back to get something that we missed."
Muskateer looked over at her again, without saying anything. In happier times, he had battled the armored Ladybug, usually managing to ruffle the woman's feathers. At times, he wondered just what the woman underneath the golden armor was like. In reality, Sandra was nothing really special to look at. Her looks were a bit above average, but were not exceptional. Her hair was short and brown in color, while her eyes were green. Her normalness was almost disappointing. He then looked forward once more to concentrate on his driving of the big rig.
"You did grab five of those power couplings, didn't you?" A moment later there was a tremendous explosion, bigger than any previous, behind them. The trailer rocked at the force of the blast. Sandra screamed in surprise. Regaining her composure, she strained to look in the side view mirror to see the remains of the former CII complex. A fireball much larger than any she had ever witnessed rose into the air, illuminating the night sky like a miniature sun. Sandra's eyes grew wide at the sight. The place that had been her home these last few years was now no more.
"You did grab FIVE of those power couplings?", she repeated excitedly, turning back to the driver.
"Well, if I didn't, we aren't getting any more from there, are we?"
Sandra simply nodded in response, before looking at the road ahead herself. "I suppose we could adapt a few spare circuits to act as interfaces between systems. That would take some time to make work efficiently. I could use a couple extra-processing units to upgrade the weapons systems also. I would imagine you must have some access to something like that. Of course you do. Don't you?" She waited for an answer that didn't seem to come.
"Okay, maybe you'd rather talk about weapons design," she continued after a long pause. "I was forced to work on both personal weapons systems and on larger mobile weapons platforms for Resonator. Let me make this perfectly clear though: I didn't have anything to do with that infamous sonic tank, ... thankfully. But a few of the other systems I designed and developed extensively. By the way, you never told me what you were looking to have these weapons designed for. It makes a big difference in the delivery mechanism. I mean, I get the idea it's not just to fight the HPA. You seem to have that angle covered well enough already. I may be wrong, of course, but I get the feeling that there's something else going on here. Call it woman's intuition, or whatever. So who are we fighting?"
This time Muskateer answered, but didn't bother to look towards his passenger. His eyes were locked on the road ahead, glued to the path he had chosen to travel. It was a quick answer and only one word: "Destroyer."
Sandra felt a chill run down her back. "Oh my God. You mean DOCTOR Destroyer?"
"There some other Destroyer I don't know about?", he responded curtly.
"I... I thought he was dead by now."
"You thought wrong," Muskateer growled.
"Oh great." She sat silent for a few moments staring ahead as she contemplated the repercussions in Muskateer's response. The miles were quickly being eaten up as Muskateer barreled down the roadway. It was only a matter of minutes before they reached the Brooklyn checkpoint.
"Hey, if you wanna change yer mind, I can let you out right now."
"NO! No," she answered nervously. "Okay, Destroyer. Okay. Fine. That does sort of change my thinking, of course." After a hesitation, she added, "I'm sure I can come up with something. I can do that." She tried to sound confident. Otherwise Muskateer could just as easily change his mind about her. And where would that leave her? Battling against Dr. Destroyer would likely be easier than trying to survive on her own. Besides, with any luck, she could stay out of the personal action and work behind the scenes. "After all," Sandra thought to herself, "would you have gone up against Dr. Destroyer in the old days?" Sandra was silent for a few long moments.
The Brooklyn checkpoint, at what was once Fort Wadsworth, was just up ahead. Sandra repositioned herself as they approached the heavily guarded barrier. The area beyond was only loosely controlled and quite lawless. Everything bordered by Ridge Parkway and Stillwell Avenue down to Coney Island was like a Free Zone. The checkpoint closely monitored traffic in and out of the areas between Staten Island and Brooklyn and also functioned as a lucrative operation for the commander of the guard units stationed here. They often took bribes or favors to allow passage. Sandra imagined that Muskateer must have something in mind to handle the anticipated pay-off. She had expected him to slow down however.
"Uh, you do see the checkpoint? Right?", she asked quickly, sounding stupid even to herself as the words came blurting out. Of course he saw the checkpoint. It was difficult to miss. A pair of cement bunkers with observation towers bordered the highway. A heavy gate barred the way ahead of them. Off the side of the road were deep pits. You couldn't see them from here, but Sandra knew that they were filled with huge metal spikes, like a tank trap. She had seen them upon entering Staten Island when she first went to work for the Warlord. This would be the first time she was outside of the complex since first entering it. Resonator had controlled every facet of the lives of those who had worked for him. Numerous buildings sat off to the left of the highway.
Sandra could see guards starting to assemble and a spotlight trained itself onto the rig. Muskateer calmly fingered a series of controls on the dash and pushed a control code on a panel near the ceiling. The sounds of hydraulics could be heard from behind the pair. On a monitor, Sandra could see a green image of the scene before her. Night vision camera, she guessed. "Oh, please don't tell me you're going to do what I think you're going to do." Muskateer's only response was to push the accelerator even harder to the floor. The massive truck gained speed as it continued to barrel ahead.
Sandra flinched as the machine-gun fire rang out, ricocheting off the front grill and windshield of the cab. She looked over at Muskateer who calmly adjusted more controls. On the steering column, he held down a firing mechanism, which controlled what must be some laser cannon mounted on the rig's hood. Sandra watched the bright blue blasts light up the night as they traced off towards their targets and exploded into bright flashes of blue. The truck raced on, rumbling closer and closer to the barred passage. Sandra tensed up in her seat and she tried to find something to grab onto. Muskateer then pushed a single button.
It seemed almost like slow motion to Sandra as the rockets started firing from some location above them. First one rushed off, billowing smoke behind it, then another. Before the first had made contact with the guard station, a third and a fourth launched. Then there was an explosion up ahead. The first of the rockets slammed into the reinforced gate, exploding in a bright burst. Then another struck one of the observation towers, then another. In a brief instant it seemed like the grand finale of a fireworks display as more and more rockets blasted into the checkpoint. One explosion erupted after another, each spewing forth flames, debris and chaos. Sandra quickly lost count of how many rockets had fired.
The last explosion burst forth only seconds before the truck hit the gate. Or rather, what little that was left of it. The plas-steel ram on the front tore through what remained to try and stop them, as Muskateer guided the massive vehicle into and past the checkpoint. A moment later, they emerged from the blazing fire and ahead was mostly darkness, interrupted by a few faint flickers of light. An oncoming vehicle swerved violently to avoid the hurtling tractor-trailer. The whole encounter had taken only mere moments. Sandra realized that the machine-gun fire and blasters had stopped impacting the semi. She finally started to breathe again. Trying to relax, she closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths.
As she opened her eyes again, the man responsible for that brief mayhem calmly looked over at her and asked, "What checkpoint?" She was too rattled from the experience to laugh. Looking in the mirror, all that could be seen was flames. The truck raced across the Verrazano Narrows Bridge and on into the night.
Muskateer leaned against the truck's cab, its engine still rumbling. He impatiently chewed on a piece of beef jerky, his black full face mask pushed up just enough to expose his mouth. He looked off into the darkness and shook his head disgustedly. "Hurry up, 'Bug!"
A few stray sounds could be heard a short distance away. Sandra's voice called out a moment later, "I'm doing the best I can. It's not easy with this broken ankle of mine."
"We are not stopping again until we're back at the base, 'Bug," he said angrily. "You'll just have to hold it." Muskateer's eyes narrowed as he viewed the oncoming headlights a short distance away. They looked like motorcycles and a moment later, the tell-tale engine rumble confirmed that thought.
Muskateer straightened up and looked around. "Time's up, 'Bug. Get back here now!" There were other sounds coming from off to the left, muffled and masked, but other intruders nonetheless. Muskateer snapped the nightsight lenses in his mask down and pulled out his sword and a pistol.
Sandra could be seen, doing her best to hop on her one good leg back toward the truck. In the rough terrain nearby, he hadn't located their off-road intruders, but the ones coming down the road were quickly gaining on them. Then gunfire rang out!
Numerous bullets bounced off the armored cab of the semi and Muskateer as well. He was still wearing all the protective gear he had readied for his attack on CII and it was a good thing for him. He ducked down and aimed at the incoming attackers. Waiting a moment before firing, he plucked one of the raiders from their motorcycle.
"Ah crap!" There was a familiar faint whoomping sound and Muskateer quickly dove under the truck cab, having recognized the sound as a grenade launcher. It was a concussion grenade that exploded. Muskateer was protected from most of the blast by the truck itself and his armor protected him from such things anyway. Sandra may have been hit by the blast however. "Time to teach these jokers a lesson." Muskateer pulled the Shadow Cloak around him and lifted the hood over his mask. Then he was gone.
Ten motorcycles roared up around the truck and milled about before stopping. The leader, a grizzled older man with white hair and long handlebar mustache, barked out orders as the rest of the gang closed in around their prize.
"Looks like we got ourselves a real haul here, Fry Daddy," a huge man riding a three-wheeler stated excitedly. He was over nine feet tall and built like a brick wall. His blond hair was unkempt and he wore a torn and battered football jersey that stretched tightly over his massive frame.
"You said it, Truck!", another of the gang said. Four of them started to congregate at the rear door of the trailer. "Christmas comes early this year!"
Four more bikes roared up from off the road and stopped a short distance away. "Got one jacker over here," a woman shouted. "She's a little rough around the edges, but still alive."
"There's at least one more around here. Find him!" A tall man with crew cut black hair and a big heavy chain over the shoulder of his black leather jacket directed to three other members of the gang.
Sandra coughed and wiped her forehead. Blood smeared on her palm as she did so. This was turning out to be a very bad evening. Her body ached even more and her wounded ankle was sending pain shooting up her whole leg. Her clothes were now dusty and ragged, torn up by the explosion and she had lost the shoe on her good foot. Looking up she saw a woman with short black hair. She was beautiful, but rather bedraggled. The large knife in her hand and the bandolier of six more over her shoulder caused Sandra to gasp in fear and shrink back away.
"Can I kill her?", the woman yelled back to her leader. "From the looks of things, it'll be doing her a favor." Sandra saw the woman's bright green eyes sparkle with a malevolent glow. The woman moved in closer and licked the blade of her knife.
"Hold on a sec, Wild Thing," Fry Daddy cautioned. "We might need some info first."
Another man with Wild Thing moved in. "I might like to keep her for myself," the man stated. "Whattaya say, honey? I always liked green eyes." Suddenly there was a pair of gunshots and the man slumped to the ground.
Driven into motion by the unexpected attack, the gang members all ducked for cover as best as they could or pulled out weapons. The gunshots had come from the top of the trailer. Standing there now was a man dressed in black, and shrouded in a dark cloak. He held a broadsword in one hand and a pistol in the other. "You guys wanna call it quits, you can just take off right now."
Machinegun fire ripped through the air in response to Muskateer's warning. He expected as much, but would have rathered bluff his way out of the fight. It had been a long night already.
"Have it your way. It's your funeral." Leaping into the air, Muskateer executed a double flip as he avoided the incoming fire. Before he landed he fired the pistol at one gang member and an electrical blast from his sword at another. Both hit their intended targets.
As he landed the gang closed in. Much to Muskateer's surprise, the tall man with the crewcut had not only withstood his taser blast but actually seemed to absorb it. Not only that, but he was now glowing a pale electric blue. "Man, you just messed up big time by ticking me off! The Daddy ain't the only one who fries things around here! Get'm Downtrodden!!" The man moved in menacingly. "I'm gonna shove that sword down your throat!"
Muskateer considered for a moment. He was used to such turns of events by now and this one hardly fazed him. With a sideways glance, he straightened and fired three quick shots from his pistol. The bullets ripped into the man, dropping him. Spinning he swung his sword in a wide arc, slashing another of the gang that had closed in on him. This man too crumpled.
"Back off," Fry Daddy shouted and his gang eagerly obeyed. They formed a loose ring around the man in black. "Nobody takes down my boys if'n I have anything to say about it."
As Muskateer watched, the man's eyes lit up like miniature fires. Then his hands burst into fire. The fire raced up the man's arms as he lifted them overhead. Then he quickly thrust them in Muskateer's direction and a wave of fire rushed out.
"Just call me nobody then," Muskateer calmly stated as he turned the flame bursts away on his sword. They were redirected to a nearby gang member who suddenly burst into flame. The man howled and dropped to the ground, rolling about in pain.
Firing a burst of electrical energy from his sword, Muskateer knocked Fry Daddy back as the rest of the gang rushed in again. The former Avenger leaped into the air and slashed another biker. He slipped under the grasp of the huge Truck and fired his pistol once more, but the bullets just bounced off the brute. "Don't worry, Jolly Green, I've got a trick up my sleeve for you."
But before Muskateer could reveal what that was, another woman closed in for hand to hand combat. And she was quite fast. "I've got one of my own, masked man. It's called 'punch 'm in the face'!" The fair-skinned woman, with short red hair, wore an eye patch over her right eye. She was dressed in a skimpy, dirty black leather outfit with lots of chains and buckles. As Muskateer was trying to avoid the rush of attackers, she landed a right cross on his chin.
Rising to his feet some twenty feet away, Muskateer shook his head to clear it. He hadn't wanted this fight from the beginning and now he was starting to get irritated. The woman was strong. Probably in Ultimaxx or Shockwave's strength class. Maybe even stronger. "Charcoal? Nice eye patch." Charcoal had been one of the security chiefs on Sanctuary Island. Before it had been obliterated years ago.
Reaching into the Shadow Cloak, Muskateer pulled out a large laser rifle. Fortunately for the Downtrodden, Muskateer hadn't chosen the modified weapon that once belonged to Lazerblast. This one was a dangerous enough weapon on its own. Flicking a series of switches, the massive weapon hummed to life. "I thought you were dead, young lady. 'Course, if you don't call off the dogs, you may well be." He raised the weapon and opened fire. Bright bursts of reddish energy shot out of the rifle as Muskateer sprayed the area.
A few more of the Downtrodden dropped and Fry Daddy and Charcoal were now bleeding. People scattered every which way as Muskateer stepped forward.
"You know who this guy is?", Truck asked as he moved forward menacingly. "Or who he was, after I'm finished with him!" Truck raised his fists over his head, but Charcoal grabbed the huge man and tried to stop him.
"Hold on, Truck," Charcoal said, worry filling her voice. "I do think I know who that is. I heard he was dead."
"I look dead to you, Felicity?" Muskateer continued to advance, pointing his rifle at various gang members as he did. Everyone backed off a little more. "I am not in the mood for this," he growled.
Just then, a gang member appeared behind Muskateer. He held Sandy before him, a large hunting knife resting precariously at her throat. Sandy stifled a muffled cry as tears ran down her face. She was shaking uncontrollably. "Freeze, tough guy," the ganger shouted.
The remaining Downtrodden all turned their attention briefly to this change of events. "That's right," another shouted. "Drop your weapon or the lady is toast."
"Felicity! Tell them they're making a big mistake," Muskateer warned.
"Fry Daddy...," Charcoal started to say, but he cut her off.
"Never mind if'n he's got you spooked, Charcoal." Fry Daddy moved closer to Muskateer who regarded the older man. "Drop that rifle or she dies," he said to Muskateer.
The last Avenger let out a bothered sigh. "Look, I don't give a rat's butt if you kill her or not." Muskateer still hadn't looked at Sandra or her assailant. That made Fry Daddy and the rest of his gang pause. But then, the man in black dropped the laser rifle at his feet.
"Ha! I knew we had him...," the man who held the knife at Sandra's throat started to say.
Muskateer moved quickly. Somehow, there was a pistol in his hand. Reaching back, he fired two quick bursts, without ever taking his eyes off the gang members to his front. Sandra screamed. The man who held her never had time to scream before the lasers hit him in the forehead. The lifeless body dropped to the ground behind Sandy.
While everyone gasped in surprise and awe, Muskateer flicked the rifle back into his hands with his boot and opened fire again. Fry Daddy was hit numerous times and dropped. Truck moved in and tried to intersperse his body as a makeshift wall, but all he did was get torn up. Other gang members dropped around them. Taking Charcoal in his sights, he paused.
Sensing what was happening, Charcoal put her hands in the air and stopped. She turned her head a little to get a look at him with her good eye. "Look, Muskateer,...", she started to say.
"I don't want to hear it, Felicity." Muskateer took a few more steps forward. "I warned you once. These morons didn't listen. I am not in the mood to be merciful, but frankly your group of losers isn't worth the ammunition. Anyone who isn't moving by the count of three is dead. Understood?"
Charcoal just nodded her head. She looked around at the remainder of her gang. More of them were on the ground, wounded or dead, than remained standing. She gave them all quick signals and some knowing looks. "Get anyone who is wounded," she ordered.
The Downtrodden didn't remain in the area long. Muskateer fired a few warning blasts at any stragglers who didn't seem to be moving quickly enough as they rounded up bodies and equipment. As the rest of the gang rode away, Charcoal rode up on her bike and stopped for a moment, gazing at the man in black. He stared back silently.
There was not much she could say. They had brought this on themselves. Normally, the Downtrodden were successful in their raids. A few people got killed along the way, but that's how life was these days, especially out here in the Free Zone. They were just unfortunate enough to pick the wrong target.
Seeing Sandra hobble back toward the truck, Charcoal started to apologize. "I'm really sorry for frightening you. Some of our guys got a little overanxious during the fight. I don't believe in killing hostages."
Sandra looked at the woman, fear still etched on her face. "Uh-huh," was all she could muster.
Charcoal looked back at the man she used to know as Muskateer. To him, there was no point in apologizing. He had exacted his retribution already. Without another word, Charcoal sped off after her gang.
Back in the truck, Sandra laughed a nervous laugh. "Boy, you sure conned those guys with that 'I don't care if you kill her' line. Really threw them off guard. You almost had me believing it. And what a shot! It didn't seem like you even looked before you fired."
"I didn't look," Muskateer said, as he turned to his passenger. "And what makes you think I was lying to them?"
Sandra laughed nervously again. But now she decided to remain silent. Sleep was more in order. Now if she could just find a comfortable position.
Unable to gain access to the computer room, Molly watched through the viewport as the computer filled in a few more words. Some of it was garbled nonsense still. The rest was beginning to look like a warning. Molly read the message one more time to herself.
"...Steven,"
"Wonder who Steven is?" Molly didn't know anyone named Steven. At least she didn't think so. Maybe it was Muskateer's real name. That made sense. The young girl had no way of knowing for sure.
...it's me... I know ... very long time ...not going to believe this, but... alive. ...trapped for years now ... acquired the ability ... I managed to find ... Mechanon robot and now...
Molly reread the garbled words several times, trying to decipher their meaning. "Obviously, it's somebody who knows Muskateer. But also someone Muskateer probably thinks is dead. 'Trapped for years' doesn't sound good. Maybe it's someone who escaped from the HPA and is trying to make contact again?"
The final part of this portion of the message made Molly's blood run cold. She knew who Mechanon was. No one who had heard of the megalomaniac android could ever forget him. Back before the war, Mechanon was one of the greatest menaces to life on the planet. His endless quest for the painful death of all things organic ranked him up there with such master criminals as Dr. Destroyer, Malachite, and Eurostar.
Mechanon had come under the control of Dr. Destroyer during the war. Mechanon and all his copies had formed a most devastating combat unit. The last Molly knew was that all the Mechanons had been destroyed at the end of the war. Molly had no way of knowing whether it that was true or not. She continued on with the next part of the message.
...communications systems are damaged beyond ... repair. I don't even know ... will get through at all. ...wanted you to know ... coming and ... Mechanon ... wanted to alert you....
While still missing much of the message, its meaning was becoming very clear. Someone was coming and Mechanon wasn't far behind. The killer robot was on its way here!
